Endless Legacy
by LegacyOfSamcro
Summary: With the murder of his wife haunting him and the recent death of his mother looming over his already dark soul, Jax needs to make a decision; Leave the lies and his actions destroy him completely or find a way to make a better life for his sons. The decisions of an outlaw and a leader are never easy ones to make.
1. Goodbye Daddy

{Charming 2014, Teller-Morrow Automotive}

"I love you son," Jax clutched his brawny arms around the young boy, collecting him in his grasp in an embrace that made it evident that something was causing him reason not to let go. Only the blonde haired, blue eyed biker knew that reason; it had not been relinquished to anyone other than Nero only moments ago as they stood in the emptiness of his mother's office, the walls that held many secrets, lies and even a few truths. Some truths that Jax wasn't ready to express so freely. His mouth ran dry and it was difficult for his own saliva to pass through the lump in his throat as the soft voice graced his ears, the little arms squeezing him back. "I love you too, daddy."

Wendy looked on at the little boy her and Jax had created together. Despite their differences, Abel was the one thing they had done right. Amidst the fighting and hatred her and her ex husband shared, that emotion never overflowed towards Abel; their son was the love of each of their lives and it showed, especially at the exact moment she realized Jax was struggling to untangle his flannel covered arms from around their pride and joy. A sense of concern and dread suddenly washed over her as she caught herself tightening the grip on the small boy resting on her hip, the son that belonged not to her but to a woman who so graciously cared for Abel as her own when Wendy could not. Tara had stepped up to the plate and raised Wendy's flesh and blood while his biological mother struggled to barely look after herself. How the irony had fallen; Two women who loved Jackson Teller, raising the children brought into the world by the other when each of them were unable. Luckily for Wendy her reasoning was short lived. Tara's however was not and Wendy's thoughts drifted for a brief moment to the headstone on Tara's grave. ~Devoted Wife and Mother ~ Devoted mother, yes. Wife, of course but devoted? That was one assumption Wendy would disagree on. Forcing herself forward she rested her dainty hand on the cool, smooth leather that rested on Jax's shoulder like a second skin, hoping it would help ease whatever it was that seemed to have him off kilter.

"Jax, you ok?" The pads of her fingers caressed the seams of his leather kutte as she spoke.

"Yeah.." Her angelic voice graced his ears and instantly Jax felt the tinge of warm tears threaten to emerge from beneath his lids. Quickly the back of his hand swept across his unshaven face, a move he hoped would keep the threatening emotions at bay as he stood and faced her. For the first time in all the years Jax had known Wendy Case, this was the first time he truly _looked_ at her. The golden strands of her hair draped perfectly around her beautiful face, accentuating every feature he had in the past chose to ignore. He knew deep in the pit of his dark and dreadful soul that she, not Tara Knowles, was the woman meant for him. Wendy was the light in his dark, the other matching half of his god forsaken soul. The mother of his oldest son was the right to every wrong within him. She was there despite the chaos, despite the monster that now lived within him. She never left; she chose to embrace the shit storm he called life and had always wanted to do it standing at his side even in times he pushed her away. Not only did the tears threaten because of the impending doom lingering in his heart but because of all the bullshit he'd done, especially to her. She never deserved it but somehow, each time, he justified it. He wished he could tell her he was sorry, show her that his heart had truly always been hers. She embraced the MC life but most of all she embraced him, in all the bull shit he put her through, she was still here. For him. For his sons. Wendy Case was the one woman Jax Teller could finally admit was everything he ever needed and wanted. But now...now it was too late.

"You sure? You don't look.." Jax interrupted her before she could get her concern for him out in the open.

"Everything is going to be fine," Jax paused and as his ocean blue eyes fell onto her deep brown hues, reading the concern and question in them, he forced a half smile to reassure her. Deciding it was best to just leave things play out as he had carefully planned, Jax leaned forward, his rough, calloused hand residing on the curve of her hip; the one he remembered vividly caressing only nights ago in the bed they once shared. His lips brushed purposely along hers, pausing only briefly to allow his subconscious to etch the moment in his mind. For that single moment he doubted the decision he had already set into motion. The slight intimate contact with the woman that had been a permanent fixture in his life for so many years, other than his mother, was making him rethink the plans of the day, not to mention replaying all the mistakes he had made with her in the course of their time together. But this was best. His boys needed to grow up hating the thoughts of him, just as he had relayed to Nero in their earlier exchange. He was an outlaw, a criminal, a killer. His boys deserved so much more than the path his life had chosen to take them down. It was too late for him, but it was not too late for his boys...or for her.

"I love you Wendy." Jax took one more long look into her eyes until he forced himself to completely pull away and turn, his riding boots scuffing along the pavement of the parking lot, leaving her holding his youngest son, Thomas, on her hip while clutching the blonde haired, tiny version of himself against her thigh. He couldn't deny the footwear now residing on his feet felt out of place. The leather boot; just as his brothers wore and his father and fallen brothers before him. The significance of his trademark white Nikes was no longer needed; they had once symbolized his want for change and his determination to make that change happen, to step out of the mold that their life was so finely put into. He had failed. Jax Teller had done the one thing he didn't want to do; he became the man his father so desperately wanted to protect him from. Jax had failed his father but more importantly he had failed her...and his sons. It would be the last time he looked at her, spoke her name or said those words to anyone ever again. He could feel her eyes still on him as his stride widened towards the open garage doors of Teller-Morrow where his father's rebuilt motorcycle awaited. He knew if he turned around and took one last look it would ruin everything. His plan to protect them would crumble. _This was for the best, it's the only play Jax..._..the words played on repeat in his head. This was the way it was meant to be; the Reaper comes for us all and today was that day for Jackson Teller.

{Outside Charming, 55 minutes later}

The cool metal moved round and round on Abel's little finger as he sat silently strapped into the booster seat Gemma had purchased for him months prior. His blue eyes, the same color identical to Jax's, glanced to the right of him where his baby brother slept peacefully on their drive out of Charming. As far as Abel knew Wendy; now coined by his father as his mommy; and his daddy's best friend, Nero, were taking him and Thomas on a weekend getaway. The young boy was somewhat excited about this adventure but at the same time wished it was Jax that was in the driver's seat of Wendy's SUV, not the man he was used to seeing with his grandma.

"Everything alright baby?" Wendy questioned as she turned sideways in her seat to check on Abel. The moment he heard her voice the twirling of the ring stopped and his hand covered the other to conceal what his grandmother had given him only days ago. He really had no explanation for the urge to cover the ring, it just felt like the right thing to do, to keep it hidden like it was a sin to have it. Even at his young, tender age of five Abel somehow knew the piece of jewelry would someday have a great significance. Time would have to prove that to be truth.

"Mhmm," Abel pressed his lips together and made the sound to reassure Wendy he was okay. It was that exact moment the sound of police sirens flared as a highway patrol car sped past going the opposite direction. The boy's eyes widened as the colorful lights made reflections on the ceiling inside the car only for a brief moment until it was out of sight as quick as it had come in.

"Thought for a minute there he caught your ass for speeding," Wendy chuckled as her lashes batted innocently towards Nero, his dark eyes gleaming as a smile of his own formed at the corners of his mouth, a slight bit of laughter slipping past them.

"Listen here junkie girl.." Wendy leaned back in her seat as Nero teased her, her long curls tumbling over her shoulders as her head rested against it, a smirk plastered on her beautiful face.

"Getting pulled over for speeding too much of a pussy move for a big bad outlaw, huh?" The laughter once again erupted, Nero giving his eyes a roll just as two more police cruisers came into view.

"Jesus Christ...be damn glad to get to my uncle's farm. Get the hell away from this bullshit." Nero inhaled deeply, holding the air in his lungs for what seemed like a lifetime before releasing it. The words Jax confided in him earlier suddenly made an ugly appearance in his mind. He didn't want to believe the shit Jax was spewing but at the same time he knew what Jax was doing was the right thing. How he was going to explain to Wendy that Jax was leaving, never to return to her and the boys, he wasn't sure. The time would come, when the time was right he would tell her but not now, not today, not this weekend, but when the time came he would tell her. He had no choice. He hated Jax for putting this weight on his shoulders, hated that shit had come to this. The death and the wreckage, lies and deceit, innocent people being tangled in webs of MC bullshit, children's lives being torn apart because of the life they had all chosen to raise them in. Nero thought of his own son, Lucius, and the pain and struggle he endured every single day because of the poor ass choices he had made in the wake of becoming a father. He was no different than Jackson Teller. He loved his flesh and blood more than anything in this god forsaken world and would do anything it took to protect him just as Jax would for Thomas and Abel. He understood Jax's reasoning and a touch of the demons he lived with. He knew if Jax removed Gemma as Nero suspected he had, he would never recover from that; Jax's love was too deep for the woman that not only gave birth to him but lived her life for him, to protect him and love him from the deepest, purest part of her heart. That shit would eat Jackson Teller alive. And Nero knew it even as he briefly got choked up as he watched the now string of police cars passing them headed back towards Charming.


	2. The Decision

"Jackie Boy, rethink dis, we need ya here wit' us," Chibs pleaded with his now former President and brother. Since the day Jax patched into the club the Scot found himself protective of the boy that had now grown into one hell of a man and leader.

"Chibs I can't brotha...I gotta do this. My boys..they deserve better than this shit," Jax countered, tossing the now burnt out marlboro to the concrete floor, crushing it under the weight of his riding boot. "They deserve better than... me."

It pained Jax to admit it. To admit he failed his boys. To admit he failed her. The first day the tiny baby was laid in his arms that faithful day at St. Thomas, which seemed so long ago, Jax silently swore to his son he would always protect him, always do what was best by him and most of all always love him more than he ever anticipated he could. In that moment Jax knew exactly what his mother meant when she had told him 'Teller's love deep'. And he loved his sons, Jackson Nathaniel Teller loved his sons more than life itself and he was willing to prove at least that.

"There's gotta be another way, Jax," Tig chimed in. Even though him and Jax had a rocky road in the past, as of late he loved the blue eyed biker he was proud to call his President.

"I've made up my mind, there's no changing it." As the last word was spoke, Jax proceeded to remove his leather kutte, the one materialistic item he loved more than his Harley. He laid it flat on the makeshift table in front of him and reached for his father's knife that hung securely on his belt.

Chibs' eyes darted to the scene unfolding. "Jackie.."

Cutting the President's flash free, Jax shook his head and lifted his crystal blue eyes to meet the man that he knew would lead SAMCRO into a direction that he could not. Without any words, Chibs could see in Jax's pained gaze that this was what he needed to do, no matter how much they disliked it, no matter how much the club protested it.

His riding boots moved him forward in a heavy step towards his VP. Jax took one more long look into his brother's eyes and saw no expression on Chibs face. He guessed, for now, he was putting on a front just as Jax somewhat might have been. He brought the tip of his knife to the V. President's flash and tore through the thread underneath and handed him the patch to chose his own VP. In silence, he passed the status to Tig.

"This charter is yours now, brotha" Jax laid the President patch in his VP's palm, watching as Chibs slowly closed his hand around it while the other club members silently watched on. The sadness finally appeared once more on Chibs' face as he pulled Jax into a tight hug, his hand gripping onto his flannel shirt in almost a death grip; a refusal to let go.

"I love you, brotha." Chibs whispered in Jax's ear and for a moment the emotion caught him; he was really going to do this, he was going to take his own life and leave everyone and everything he loves in order to protect them. Not once had Jax thought it would come to this, the day Piney gave him his father's manuscript and had confidence in the young man to change the path of the club, he had planned on doing that someday. That someday just never came, Jax's road hadcome to a dead end.

The decision wasn't an easy one but peace came when he realized hoped he would walk through the pearly gates and be greeted by his brother, his long time best friend Opie and most of all his loving wife, Tara. He could be at peace with it all, knowing they would be there and they would watch over all the people that they loved and help guide them down a better path than he took.

Pulling away from his Scottish brother, Jax swiped his hand down over his face, cupping his mouth and coming to rest on his goatee. He didn't want his brothers to see the pain he was in but he knew they did, regardless how hard he tried to hide it. He hadn't allowed them to be privy to his plan; as far as they were concerned he was leaving and never coming back, they didn't need the details, they had all the information they needed to know and could bare.

Standing before his club members, his brothers, his family Jax looked from one to another until he had memorized each of their faces. They were the family he had chosen and he loved them all so deeply it hurt. To not disclose to them his plan was selfish, he knew that. The pain they would go through when they found out what he had done was more than he could bare to think about. But they would have closure, more than if he just ran away like the coward he felt like in that moment as he stood there surrounded by the men that made him feel like he was home. They would heal, Wendy would heal, his boys would heal; they would grieve and they would move on just as they are supposed to do, just like they'd have to do. Knowing they would never wonder where he was or when and if he would ever return was enough to comfort Jax in his final goodbye.

"I love you all," Jax recited as Quinn stepped forward and the men joined in a manly hug. Quinn stood a foot taller than Jax and was a brute of a man but a down right soft hearted soul, just like they all were, no matter the hard shell they all surrounded themselves in. Trying the best he could not to shed a tear Jax turned to Ratboy and smiled. The young Prospect turned out to be one hell of a loyal member and he knew he would be sitting in one of those seats someday. Ratboy clutched onto Jax as they hugged, realizing maybe for the first time this was actually happening and he would never again lay eyes on Jackson Teller.

The lump lodged in his throat as Jax turned to Happy. 'The Tacoma Killer' as Jax liked to peg him. Rough around the edges and down right crazy at times but there was nothing more important to Happy Lowman than his club... than his brothers. A single tear fell down the man's face as Jax moved closer. He wasn't surprised that Happy was the one to show the most emotion. He smiled as he thought back to the moment Hap joined their charter. Best fuckin' vote the club ever decided on. Grabbing the tattooed brother, Jax held him in a hug as Happy sobbed into the flashless kutte he had replaced to his back earlier. Whispering in his ear, Jax reassured him. "It's gonna be alright brotha. I love you."

Jax brushed the rough pad of his thumb across his own cheek as the tears fell down them after releasing Happy. 'Two more,' he thought. Yet they would prove to be the hardest. Tig Trager. The shit road they had been down together was not even remotely explainable. The devastation and triumph mixed throughout their time as brothers was enough to drive a man insane. But somehow they persevered. And to Jax, Tig was just as important to him as any of the other men standing before him. In some ways more.

"I have no words," Tig spoke in a hushed voice in unison with patting his former president on the back. He was not comfortable, not one bit, with Jax's decision. But he realized why he was doing it, why he had to leave all this behind. Because if he didn't, Abel and Thomas, his true flesh and blood, would someday suffer the torment that Jax now has in his soul. Jax was doing right, even if they all hated it. "I love you." Giving a reassuring nod, Jax moved on to the last man he had yet to say goodbye to.

Inhaling a deep breath, Jax stood face to face to the man that was more than just a friend. He was a confidant, a brother, even a father of sorts. Without Chibs Jax knew he wouldn't have stood a chance at this President's gig. Looking back, there were times Jax wished he had listened to the Scot more, his wisdom and perception Jax could have learned from. With an extended hand, Jax clutched his aged, calloused hand around Chibs', giving it a respectful shake before being pulled into the hug that made the dam finally break. Emotion poured out of them and somehow they were able to keep it concealed for the good of the club. Grabbing feverishly at Chibs' leather kutte, inhaling one last time the scent of the worn leather that he came to love as well as the man wearing it.

"I love ye, don' ya e'er forgit dat, Jackie." The comforting sound of Chibs' accent soothed Jax as he sniffled, holding back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. He didn't anticipate this part to be quite as hard as it was turning out to be. With a kiss to Jax's scruffy cheek, Chibs released him from the tight hug as Ratboy pulled open the warehouse door where his father's bike rested and waited.

"I got this," Jax smiled. In that moment when all the goodbyes were said and done, Jax felt at peace with his decision. They'd all meet again someday in the clubhouse they call heaven or hell, whichever their souls decided to rest in. It was there that Jax Teller would have a bottle of Jameson waiting when each of them arrived.


	3. I Love You Dad

"I think the struggle I understand best. Even more than all the things you wanted for SAMCRO. What we eventually became. The one I feel the most is the war of the mind. Happens when you try to get right with both family and patch. That fear and guilt crippled me. I realized, as I think you did, a good father and a good outlaw can't settle inside the same man. I'm sorry, JT. It was too late for me. I was already inside it. And Gemma she had plans. It's not too late for my boys. I promise, they will never know this life of chaos. I know who you are now. And what you did. I love you, Dad."

The cool, afternoon wind blew through the ends of Jackson's, sandy blonde hair as he sat sideways on the saddle of the his father's 'Knucklehead', reciting the words that had played in his mind on the ride to the memorial dedicated to his old man. As he stared at the faded red paint, the numbers defining the date JT took his life by way of a semi he thought of his own boys and how he was now trying to do what his old man had wanted for him; to get out of the life that killed them. The life that made deep, unhealable wounds. Scars beyond any hope for repair. He would do that for his boys. Abel and Thomas would never know the life that could only end in one way; in jail or dead.

The bluish grey smoke billowed from Jax's nose as he stared at the memorial, no exactly what was next for him. The now former president of SAMCRO knew there was only two choices for him; leave and never return to Charming or the one the ended the cycle forever.

The image of his mother flashed before him as he inhaled another drag from the cigarette, pulling the nicotine deep into his lungs. Gemma had big plans. She had plans for him and plans for his boys. They were to grow up and accept their destiny in Gemma's eyes; take the legacy that was handed down to them. But the lies caught up to her. They caught up to all of them and there was now only one way out.

Jackson didn't pay any attention to the sound of vehicles passing behind him. Normal, everyday people going about their lives as he sat there on his old man's Harley contemplating ending his own. The fear of that decision weighed on his mind. Not because he was afraid to die but afraid of what that impact would bring to Wendy, the now mother of his boys. How would she cope knowing the only way out for Jackson was to meet the reaper head on? Would she continue to stay clean and stay strong to raise their boys to the men they needed to be? Men that were better than him, ones that didn't need to be criminals or killers. Live a normal, domesticated life hopefully far away from Charming. In that moment Jackson knew the words that fell from his lips earlier that day at TM when he hugged his boys for the last time were the truth. He loved Wendy. He always had despite the bullshit that tore them apart and flipped their world upside down.

And Nero. To put the weight of what he was about to do on his best friend's shoulders was a lot to ask and more than he should, he knew that but he also knew if any man would make sure his boys stayed away from the outlaw life it would be him.

His brothers. The men that watching him put on the leather for the first time bearing the Prospect patch and had seen him become a leader. The leader that eventually lost his way and ruined everything that was good for the club. The guilty of becoming everything his father hated tore at him, chewed at his heart and his mind. Jackson knew if he would of had more time he could have made his old man proud but time ran out for him. It ran out for the people he loved.

Pushing himself up from the bike Jax took one more long look at the date that had sat in his heart since he was sixteen and his old man lost his battle with the semi on 580. Taking a slow step forward he knelt down, the gravel under his scuffed riding boots shifting as he bent down to place his skull cap on the round, his tinted KDs resting on top. Possibly someday his initials would be painted below his father's as a reminder to his MC brothers that he attempted to make it right.

Whoop. Whoop.

The familiar sound of police sirens pierced Jackson Teller's ears as he began to mount the old Knucklehead, sucking in one more slow drag from his Marlboro. Slowly the filter of his half smoked cigarette tumbled across the loose gravel as Jax flicked it away, the cherry breaking free from the end. Not bothering to smother it under the weight of his boot, Jax swiftly pulled his Smith & Wesson from the back of his jeans, spinning his body and firing before the highway patrol had a prayer. If this was the way they wanted to play, why not have a little fun before he checked out.


End file.
